No Way Out

A short story that I wrote about a young Indian man hounded by inner conflict, completely consumed by the feeling of 'no way out'.

Submitted: July 01, 2016

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Submitted: July 01, 2016

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His body ached like that of a broken man as he cowered behind the Ashwattha tree. His eyes were wild as
he listened for footsteps but he could hear nothing over his own desperate breathing. He knew his hunters weren’t far behind. They were playing with him, tormenting his already troubled
mind. He lay there trapped like a tiger surrounded by man, greedy for satisfaction and a feeling of self-empowerment. Only he didn’t feel like a tiger. He wasn’t strong or
muscular and he would rather avoid conflict than leap in head first.

He glanced down at the sari which lay like a defeated, bloody burial sheet around his body. The radiant
gold now resembled tarnished bronze and the bold red was lost among his own blood. What had once been his secret joy, he now wore like a mantel of deep shame.

He thought back to all the days growing up, when he would take his mother’s best sari from her room and go into
the fields where he could be alone. He would ceremoniously wrap the delicious Banarasi silk around his slight frame, pleating the material again and again before neatly tucking it into the
gentle petticoat. He often lost track of time, lost in a world of perfect make believe where he was Anuja, not Anuj.

In those few precious moments, he had been free. He could fly, soaring high in the sky like a majestic
Kite, drunk on fantasy. He had been in control, the hunter instead of the hunted. His pursuit a feeling of belonging rather than a beast, his kill the victory over self-loathing and
fear. Out there he could be true, out there he could throw off the shackles. There was no ostentatious parade, no catwalk through the long grass, just the quiet thrill of being
righted.

He looked up at the blue sky, the ever punishing sun beating down on his battered body. The leaves of the
tree glared down at him accusingly and the never-ending roots reached for him, almost teasing him in his desire to be re-born. Salty beads of sweat dripped into his eyes and he wiped them
with the back of his filthy hand. The rusty taste of blood was all-consuming and his fingers slowly traced over his ribs. He winced at the pain and then looked down at his hand, now
covered in the rich, sticky blood that was making its way out of the deep wound in his side.

Even if his chasers didn’t find him, he knew he didn’t have long left. He was too far from the village to
seek help and it would be nightfall soon. Leopards had been spotted in these parts and they would soon be on the hunt for nourishment. Anuj closed his eyes, almost willing death
on. He wondered now if he had chosen to be caught out, the thought of his impending wedding too much to bear.

Suddenly his eyes flew open at the sound of shouts and laughter. He listened as they got closer, his
tormentors calling for him. Closer now, he heard one smacking his lips together and calling out ‘Hijra’. He had never sold his body for sex and never would but he knew they didn’t
care. All they saw was a freak, a deviant who deserved to be chastised. After the initial beating in front of many of the villagers, he had been chased out into the wild. The game
was on.

As his persecutors rounded the imposing tree, the noise swelled until it reached into his very soul. His
now weary eyes rested on his older brother, his face full of disgust and shame. His strong hand firmly gripped the machete which Anuj had feared for so long. The sound of chanting and
hissing filled his ears but his mind fell silent. A calm washed over him as he accepted his fate, for surely no pain could be as bad as the pain he had endured all his life.

He had been born in the wrong place, at the wrong time and in the wrong body. A woman trapped within the
prison of bones and flesh, with no way out.

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Comments

Very awesome read. I like how your writing flows together, to make me visualize everything that's going on. Many stories on here do that, and that's why most of the stories I read on here are good because you all are very talented and gifted, I visualized everything as I was reading it. Great writing. On to another topic. I have a website where I post my short stories, and blogs on. I also have ads on the website. I was wondering if you can go to my website, and click on any ad. you don't have to buy anything, I promise you won't get any viruses, all it is is google adsense on my website, and the more clicks on the ads, the more it helps grow my website. My website is bwlawson.com I appreciate it, that you would be taking part in helping my craft, business, product, and brand grow. Thank you!

AuthorReply

Comment | 38 words

Fri, July 1st, 2016 7:07am

Thank you so much for your lovely feedback. This is the first short story I have published, hopefully many more to come!
I will certainly take a look at your website shortly and click on an add.
Sarah